Magnar drew a gold-hilted dagger from his waist, twirled it around, and held it out to Corwin.
Take it, Gavril spoke inside his mind. Take it and do as he bids, starting with Kate Brighton.
No, I won’t. I can’t. But already Corwin felt the sway seizing hold. His hand tightened around the hilt, and his feet turned him around, carrying him forward to the platform’s ladder. Don’t do this, Corwin. Don’t do it. You can’t do this.
That was the worst part, the consciousness he maintained in the midst of these vile acts. He was himself, but not. Someone else was in control, as if he were a passenger in his own body.
Too soon he reached the top of the platform. The wind buffeted his body, cooling the sweat on his neck, the rest of him still drenched in it, a physical manifestation of his internal struggle. Reaching the top, he tripped and stumbled forward. The soldier guarding the entrance reached out to steady him. Corwin blinked at the guard, head muddled by the terror gripping him. The soldier touched Corwin’s hand, the one not holding the dagger, and Corwin felt the press of metal against his palm.
“Don’t look down at it,” the soldier said. Corwin stared, trying to get a look at her face, but he could see nothing through the helmet.
His fingers closed round the object in his hand, the unique shape of it easy to recognize. A key. Stepping forward, Corwin’s gaze moved to his friends, the four of them standing in a line, wrists bound with rope. Chains were too tiresome to remove from the dead. There was only one purpose for the key—the mage collar around Kate’s neck.
Get on with it, Gavril’s voice hissed in Corwin’s mind, and with it came a vision of Corwin stabbing Kate through the heart. Although the sight made Corwin recoil, he was grateful for it, aware that while Gavril was busy enforcing his will, he wasn’t paying attention to Corwin’s thoughts and the knowledge of the key he carried.
But all too soon, he reached Kate. She looked even worse this close, veins visible in her forehead like sinewy shadows. Yet she remained the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His heart ached.
“Corwin,” Kate said, and the sound of his name on her lips sent an electric shock through him. “Don’t do this. Fight him. It’s me. It’s Kate.”
Kill her. Gavril’s magic swelled like a gale-force wind inside Corwin’s mind, driving everything else out. He raised the dagger.
“I love you, Corwin. I always have,” Kate said. “Please . . .”
A war raged inside him as he fought against the sway. Fought to be himself and in control. And most of all, not to harm this woman he loved.
Do it. Kill her.
Corwin drew back his arm. Do it now. Kill her. Pierce her through the heart.
KILL HER.
“NO!” Corwin screamed, even as his arm thrust forward, straight for Kate. She flinched backward, terror on her face. Time seemed to slow, the world halting until nothing existed but the silent war in Corwin’s head—Gavril’s will against his own.
“No!” Corwin shouted again, drawing all the strength there was inside him. His uror mark burned red-hot against the hilt; his whole body was on fire, and at the last moment, the last fraction of an inch, he tilted the blade down, twisting it backward—until it pierced his own side.
Pain shattered through him, and with it sudden clarity and control. Corwin thrust his other hand toward Kate, slipping the key into her palm. “Run.”
Kate seemed to come alive, the fatigue retreating from her face as she raised the key to the back of her collar. There was a loud bang, and Corwin saw thick white smoke spreading across the platform—a magist spell designed to give cover. Shouts came from below the platform, along with the sounds of struggles—the crack of pistols, the bangs and shrieks of wilder magic and magist spells, and the shriek of swords being drawn. For a second, Corwin was back in the second uror trial, when the entire area had been covered in mist, his worse nightmares appearing from out of nowhere.
Kill her! Gavril screamed. Kill them all! The sway’s power tore through Corwin’s pain, and he found himself gripping the dagger once more, pulling it free of his body, ready to do Gavril’s bidding.
The collar fell away from Kate’s throat. “Stop!” She reached for the dagger, trying to pull it out of his grip. Stop it, Corwin. He felt her inside his mind, her sway so much like Gavril’s he was instinctively terrified by it. Corwin’s mind became a battlefield, the two wilders fighting for control. Corwin sensed Kate’s weariness, her magic as weak as her body. He could see her memories—how she’d been captured by Rendborne, and how he’d spent the last few days draining her body of all the blood he could while still leaving her alive for this demonstration. She should’ve collapsed by now.
Instead she clung to him fiercely.
Around them, the fighting had grown louder. The soldier who had given Corwin the key appeared beside them now.
“It’s me, your highness, Harue. We’ve got to go. Hurry.” Dal and Tira were grappling with the other soldier at the end of the platform, Harue having given them each a dagger.
“Help me with him,” Kate pleaded as she took Corwin by one hand. “Someone is controlling him with sway. It’s just like Anise.”
Frowning, Harue reached for Corwin’s other hand and together they pulled him up. Pain lanced down his side at the movement, his tunic drenched in blood, and yet Gavril’s will blazed inside his mind as strong as ever. Kill them, kill the Godking’s enemies. Kill—
Abruptly, Gavril’s hold on his mind vanished. Glancing down at the area beneath the platform, Corwin saw Gavril lying on the ground, blood flowing from his forehead where a rock had struck him. Struck—but not killed. Corwin knew that to be the case, as the man’s prior orders remained a strong as ever in Corwin’s mind. You will not try to escape.
He pulled back, trying to free himself from Harue and Kate. “Let me go. I can’t go with you.”
Face pinched with fear, Kate plunged into his mind once more. Again, he recoiled from the feel of her there, hating the sensation, his revulsion even greater than the pain.
You will come with me now, Kate said, and he felt all the strength of her sway behind it. Somehow it was enough to hold Gavril’s Tenets at bay, even as they remained there, like a taut bowstring waiting to be released.
Now that he was no longer fighting them, Kate and Harue were able to help him stand and drag him off the platform down into the chaos below. The pain of his wound throbbed with each step, and the loss of blood made him dizzy. They headed across the Asterion as a group, Dal and Tira leading the way and fighting off any who challenged them. There weren’t many, the smoke making it too difficult for open fighting.
Soon they reached the Steps of Sorrows and were making their way down. Corwin sensed Kate’s power weakening in his mind, and the Tenets growing stronger by the second. Any moment now, and she would no longer be able to hold him. Yet they made it to the ground as they were. The smoke was still thick down here, but Harue continued guiding them on as if she could see through it. Soon they reached a group of horses and riders, Bonner and Nadira leading them. Corwin’s heart lightened for half a moment.
But then he felt Kate’s hold on his mind slipping away. “Help,” she said, falling to her knees. “I can’t hold him any longer.” Bonner rushed toward Kate, grabbing her just as she started to fall forward, unconscious.
At once, Gavril’s Tenets sprung into place, seizing control of him. You will not try to escape. Corwin spun on one heel, ready to flee back to Gavril and the Godking. Hands seized him from behind.
“Where are you going?” Dal said.
“Let me go.” Corwin spun toward him, fist swinging. It connected with Dal’s jaw, his head slamming backward as he lost his grip.
“Stop him,” Bonner shouted. “He’s not in control of himself.”
Dal tried again, but Corwin was already out of reach. I don’t want to do this. I want to stay, to be with Kate and my friends.
But he couldn’t. The magic wouldn’t let him.
“Nadi
ra, put him under!” Bonner screamed.
A moment later, Corwin felt something grip his chest. Then it was inside him somehow, making him feel light, his breath growing short. A gray fog swirled across his vision, quickly turning to black. He felt himself falling down, legs giving out as his mind went blank. Then a black sleep dragged him under, freeing him from Gavril’s hold.
At least for now.
20
Kate
WHEN KATE FINALLY WOKE SHE thought she was back in the dungeon of Norgard. Her sleep had been so deep, it had felt like death. Had it all been a dream? The Asterion covered with Sevan soldiers, Corwin alive and standing there in front of her, knife in hand and pain etched across his face, their frantic escape?
No, it hadn’t been a dream. Bonner had been there, too. Alive but changed too much for it to have been mere imagination. And this wasn’t Norgard at all, but a cave. The walls were sloped in places, jagged in others, none of it uniform or carved by human hands. So where was she? Slowly Kate tried to sit up, vaguely aware that she was lying in some sort of makeshift bed consisting mainly of horse blankets piled one atop the other.
“Aw, you’re awake at last.” The voice was unfamiliar and so was the face that peered down at her, dark-eyed and angular, with skin the color of tree bark. She spoke with the accent of someone from Kilbarrow.
“Where am I? What happened?” Kate tried again to rise, but couldn’t quite manage it. Her body felt as if the bones had been turned to noodles and the muscles to lead.
“Take it slowly, Kate. You’re a long way from recovered.” The woman placed a firm hand on her arm. “My name is Nadira Walker. I am one of the freed wilders from Seva, and we are in the old dragon caves of Cobalt Mountains.”
“Dragon caves?” Kate squeezed her eyes shut, her body starting to ache now and her head to swim. She might be free of Rendborne, but the damage he’d wrought with those repeated bloodlettings would take time to undo. And what of her blood? What horrible use would Rendborne put it to?
“That is the story behind these formations,” Nadira said, motioning to the walls of the cave around them. “That they were carved by dragons in ancient times. But either way, we are deep inside the Cobalt Mountains.”
Cobalt? The base of these mountains was several days’ journey north from Norgard. Kate couldn’t imagine how they’d managed to get her here, unconscious, what with the whole of the Sevan army surely pursuing them.
“Where is everyone?” Kate said. She’d almost asked about Corwin, but she couldn’t bring herself to say his name, the very thought of him making her already pinched stomach twist even harder. She’d felt the torment in his mind. It had taken all her strength to force him to flee with them. It had been so much like Kiran and Vianne that day. And Anise, too. Would he turn out like her in the end? Driven to madness?
No, she couldn’t think about that.
“They’re here, but you must eat something first and then rest again.”
“But I need to—”
Nadira raised a hand toward Kate as if she were an unruly child, and Kate decided it wasn’t worth the effort arguing with her—she had no effort to spare at the moment. With Nadira’s help, she sat up, ate and drank, and quickly fell asleep again, only to wake some short time later and repeat the process.
Now, though, Bonner was there.
Kate stared at him, her eyes aching at the sight of him, same as her heart. “I thought you were dead.”
Bonner craned his head to the right, and the shadow of a smile passed over his face. “I was. For a while.”
Kate reached for him, and after a moment’s hesitation he came toward her and wrapped his massive arms around her. But he didn’t squeeze her tight like he might once have done, and all too soon he pulled away.
Kate ached to let him go, sensing the deep chasm of time and hardships that seemed to separate them now. He was so changed, in more ways than she could count. Although he’d always been big, he was now enormous, wrapped in muscles nearly as hard as these limestone walls. He bore scars she didn’t recognize as well, up and down his arms, across his knuckles and the backs of his hands, and even some on his face.
“Tell me your story,” she gently urged, hoping for a way to bridge the gap between them. “How did you get here?”
Nadira cleared her throat and stood from where she’d been sitting on the cave floor. “I’ve others to attend to, but I will be back shortly, to ensure you rest again.” She cast Bonner a stern look before leaving.
Once Nadira was gone, Bonner began without preamble. He didn’t start at the beginning, as Kate had hoped he would, but instead talked about his escape from the Godking’s army during the attack on Norgard. “It was mere chance when we came across Harue at the shade door. She was waiting there for Wen and the rest of you that day.”
The timing might have been chance, Kate thought, but not the location. Most members of the Rising knew about it—and more importantly how to open it. It hadn’t been used since the cease-fire, but thankfully Raith hadn’t removed it in that time. Tears pricked Kate’s eyes at the thought. She couldn’t believe Raith was dead. She kept forgetting. It was so easy to believe he was still back at Farhold, waiting for her to return.
“It was Harue’s idea to come here.” Bonner gestured to the room. “She’d been certain there was a cave system hidden in the mountains, one supposedly made by dragons long ago. Claimed she read about it in a book.”
“And you believed her?”
Bonner shrugged. “She’s a bit batty, but she’s read every book there is.” Kate supposed he had a point. “One of the earthists with us has an affinity for the limestone in these mountains. He found the entrance easily enough. We should be safe here for now. Every way in and out has been warded against intruders and drakes both. We managed to free quite a few magists when we rescued you and the other Rising prisoners.”
“There were magists imprisoned in Norgard?”
Something like amusement appeared on Bonner’s face, although it was too cold to be mistaken for humor. “Apparently when Norgard fell, Grand Master Storr was quick to swear allegiance of the Mage League to the Godking. But not all his magists were so willing to roll over alongside him.”
Kate scowled. “Storr always was a coward.”
“Yes, but not a fool. He saw what they were up against and knew it was in his best interest to fold. But at least his selfishness paid off for us this time. Without those magists we might never have escaped, and we’d surely have been overrun by drakes.”
“I’m surprised they were willing to join us at all.”
Bonner grimaced. “It hasn’t been an easy alliance so far, but they seem to regard wilders as a better choice to cast their lot in with than invaders from Seva, no matter what the Godking claims his intentions are.”
Kate rolled her eyes in disgust. “I guess we should feel glad to be counted so high.”
“They’re proving helpful, at least,” Bonner said. “Several of them volunteered for the search party to find Genet and the rest of the Farhold survivors. Laurent is leading it. They left two days ago.”
“That’s good. I hope they find them. But what about the rest of it? What happened in Seva?”
Bonner glanced away from her, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Then he drew a deep breath, his massive chest expanding like bellows before he let it out again. “What I said before was true, I did die in Seva,” he began, and then he told her the full breadth of his story.
Kate listened with her heart in her throat, marveling at each turn that he’d survived the ordeal at all. So much of it was painful to hear, like the way Bonner had been conditioned by Lord Gavril, the same man she’d heard that day with Rendborne, to serve the Godking—and Rendborne of course. She learned about nenath, the powerful drug Gavril used to enhance his magic and to ensure his sway held without fail, through each day and each night, forever—until death.
Then, finally, Bonner came to the worst part of all—when he’d finally made contact
with Corwin, the day of his wedding to Princess Eravis.
It was all true. Corwin was married. Kate went numb from the shock of it, unable to cry or scream or react at all. She only wanted to lie down again and return to that deathlike sleep once more.
“You must forgive him, Kate,” Bonner said, coming to the end of his tale. “He had no choice but to marry Eravis. Gavril forced his will at every turn.”
Kate heard the truth in his words. She’d even experienced it herself, the terrible influence Gavril wielded over Corwin, and yet she still felt the sting of betrayal. All the reasons in the world didn’t make the act hurt any less. “Why not stop his heart and let him come back again, freed like you?”
Bonner sighed, his scarred hands fisted in his lap. “We wanted him to do just that, but he refused. He was afraid it would end the uror trial and that Edwin would become king. He didn’t want to abandon the wilders to that fate. Didn’t want to abandon us.”
A surge of warmth cut through the pain, but it wasn’t enough to abate it. An image of Corwin in Eravis’s arms kept appearing in her mind, the vision easy to conjure thanks to the illustration in the Rime Review.
“Besides, it wouldn’t have worked,” Bonner went on. “Corwin can’t be killed, not while the uror trial is happening.” Then he told her about how the Godking had tried to have Edwin killed in order to declare Corwin winner of the uror and the new king of Rime, but he was protected from all harm by the power of the uror.
Kate cocked her head, puzzled by this news. “How do you know that? I thought you escaped the day of the attack.”
“Corwin told me.”
“How . . . how is he?” she asked, not daring to hope that he was in his right mind once more.
“We’ve had to restrain him to keep him from escaping and returning to Norgard—apparently Gavril’s sway has instilled certain behaviors in him, including an addiction to nenath—but he’s in full possession of his wits . . . for now.” Bonner looked uncomfortable with the subject.
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